


Mystery Kid

by orphan_account



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-29
Updated: 2010-05-29
Packaged: 2017-10-09 19:09:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/90588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: Scotty picks up a souvenir on shore leave, a lad who speaks Russian and knows a little too much about warp theory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mystery Kid

_II. Suraya Bay Etoile Hotel, Luxury Suite #401 2232 hours, Friday_

Chief Engineer Montgomery Scott was breathing hard, body shaking, arm thrown over his eyes, toes curling under into the smooth sheets already ripped from the bed. In the hour or so since stumbling back to bed, his skin had been thoroughly roughed up by the kid's preference for using his mouth on _everything_. He shuddered as the lad licked his straining erection, lazily and thoroughly. He had to hand it to him; he knew how to handle the goods. It had been a while since Scotty had let loose and what better place than on shore leave? When he felt a wet finger slowly pushing inside him while a hot mouth leisurely sucked, he started reciting the equation for advanced warp theory in his head so as not to have this over too soon. It helped for a while, but soon Scotty was coming, equations be damned.

He was enjoying this time with the kid, but shore leave would be over soon and he would be back on his ship, his Enterprise. While he was having an excellent time here, he knew his girl was waiting for him. His girl was a pretty one, one he was very wary of leaving for too long in the hands of his crewmates, competent or not. No one could turn his attention away from her, at least not for very long. This was just sex. Okay granted, it was fucking awesome sex, probably the best he had in, well ever. But his ship provided the challenge that matched his high level of intelligence and need for entertainment. There was no one he had met that could do that for him.

There was a moaning protest from the vicinity of his thighs, where the lad was still kissing his skin and rubbing up against him in an obvious need for attention. Although he knew he didn't have to as a paying customer, he was not a selfish lover and turned his full attention to the leaking problem at hand—a young prostitute, hard and ready for service.

_I. Suraya Bay, Westside Boardwalk, 1514 hours, Wednesday_

Scotty had been on Risa for three days, but had only enjoyed the fabled beaches for two. The third day into his vacation, he had been walking along the shore, soaking up some of the sun he never had time to enjoy while on Earth, contemplating the fact that his stomach was longing for a delicious snack even though he had eaten a few hours before—the beauty of shore leave—when he saw him.

The boy was standing near one of the local dives very common on the Westside in cut-off jean shorts and a tight tight shirt that highlighted his youth and fitness. His hair curled enticingly around his face, lying softly on his high cheekbones that were currently flushed red from the heat of the sun. Or they may have been flushed for another reason as there were two women speaking to him in a low tone. Their dress and drunkenness caused Scotty to suspect that they were just human women out to have a good time. He moved closer to catch the tail wind of their conversation.

"—no need to be frightened honey, we will make you feel all better. My friend here is very talented with restraints. I am sure that when we are done, you will feel the need to pay us." They laughed uproariously at this statement, obvious in their drunkenness in the wee hours of the afternoon. When he saw one of the women reach behind the boy to squeeze his left ass cheek, Scotty saw red. He really didn't know why he cared so much—this type of thing happened all the time, even in broad daylight in this part of Suraya Bay. But when he was near to the kid, he noticed the tightening of a jaw, firming of lips, and wincing away from their rough touch, so he took action. Everyone should have a chance to say no.

"Afternoon ladies," he said cheerfully, obviously startling them into letting go of the kid's ass. The boy stood still, as if they could not see him if he was not moving. For some reason, Scotty's heart skipped a slight beat at that. "You will have to excuse my friend here, he is new to this area and is not used to the customs of non-Risans." His voice grew hard. "Most Risans ask before touching."

The women looked at him, surprised at his tone. "We were just having fun with him," one of the ladies drawled defensively, after sizing up the deceptively hidden strength in both his tone of voice and his wiry arms. They took off easily enough, hoping to have fun elsewhere where a hungry Scotsman was not present to spoil their fun.

"You alright lad? They were a little rough on you." He asked the question, looking closely at him, trying not to notice just how tight the white shirt molded to the chest of a lad too young to be thinking lascivious thoughts about.

He nodded, releasing the tension in his shoulders, and then checking out his so-called "rescuer." Scotty could see the eyes take in his slight appearance, from his wiry arms and chest to the legs currently red from too much sun. He had a strength in him though that many overlooked, choosing to see only the ridiculous side of his appearance and actions. When the gaze settled back onto his face, Scotty was surprised to hear a Russian accent come out of the slightly chapped lips, but was even more surprised by what he said.

"Fucking tourists. The women, they are the worst. They are on holiday and assume that just because I am standing here, looking like a cheap whore, they can treat me like one." He paused, looking at back at Scotty. "You knew that, correct? You knew that I was prostitute?" He said it in that matter-of-fact, fuck-you-if-you-judge-me way that teenagers often have, though this was no ordinary teen.

Scotty cleared his throat, for he had no judgment, only a feeling of growing arousal. "Well, I could suspect from the tight garb ye have on." He couldn't help himself from reaching up and pulling on one of the curls that was right above his eyes that seemed bluer next to the bright sea water. He let the curl go and put his hand self-consciously down by his side, realizing he was touching without asking. "C'mon, let's go find somewhere that sells sandwiches."

_III. Suraya Bay Etoile Hotel, Luxury Suite #401 2100 hours, Saturday_

They were drowsily curled up together on the hotel's large bed listening to the ocean waves crash on the shore a couple hundred feet outside their window. While Scotty liked to have fun in the dodgy parts of towns, he did not skimp on hotels, especially when he had a canny young prostitute to impress. A prostitute who still would not tell Scotty his name or where he was from, though he gathered he was from Earth from his thick Russian accent.

Currently the mystery kid was tracing a pattern on Scotty's bare chest. He was pretty much insatiable in bed and very giving, even for one who was required to give out for money. They had only been together for three days, but already he could feel himself getting used to this, a dangerous feeling.

"You could, you know, take me back with you." His head went up at that, sleepiness forgotten. He had told the boy about his job and his beautiful girl, the one who held his heart, but he hadn't been sure he was listening. He tended to drone on about the Enterprise more than the average person could follow or have interest for. It had been late last night after an intense coupling that had left both of them shaking. He had thought he had been asleep then when he began describing his absolute love for working hard to keep her running.

The pattern stopped when Scotty didn't answer right away. He sighed, not wanting to hurt him, but knowing that bringing back a teenage whore as a souvenir from shore leave would not be looked upon lightly. "I don't think so, lad. A Federation vessel is no place for someone of your…talents." Truer words could not be spoken. The boy was supremely talented in more than just the usual way one would expect. Yes, he could make you come quicker than you would ever want to, shudder as you never had, or spout off words you never thought you knew. But he was also a very patient listener and he could definitely take orders. Scotty shuddered again a little at that, remembering the first night when he had ordered him to strip one piece of clothing at once and then…

"—I have other talents." The lad said this quietly, continuing his tracing on Scotty's chest. The tracing was not merely a pattern anymore but seemed to become numbers and symbols. How odd, he thought. If he didn't know better, he could have thought that he was unconsciously doing math equations. The teasing strokes on his skin and the thoughts of the curly-haired male naked and begging once more had awakened Scotty's desire. He grabbed the moving hand and pinned it above his head on the bed, stretching on top of him so that he could not move.

Pushing his erection against the newly hard one under him, he asked the question that he knew the answer to. "Can I fuck you?"

The answer, as he suspected, came quickly. "It will cost you."

At the expected answer to their already-memorized script, he took the younger man's mouth with his own and traced his smooth teeth with his tongue, then leaned back. "Believe me lad, it already has. More than you know."

Later, when the desire had ebbed, he thought he heard a quiet voice firmly say, "I do not belong on Risa."

_IV. Suraya Bay, Westside Boardwalk, 1601 hours, Sunday_

Scotty stood on the boardwalk next to the seedy bar where he had first met his companion of the last few days. He thought it fitting beam up from there, instead of catching the shuttle at a more respectable locale. The week was up and it was time to return to his girl. He had said his goodbyes this afternoon, over a pint and a sandwich. He had thought it would be easier if he had comfort food in each hand. It wasn't.

The lad had been sitting next to him, sandwich untouched. Scotty could understand his mood, because he felt the same way, though that never affected his appetite.

"What will you do after I leave?" He really didn't want to know; the thought of the teenager (God, he had never even asked how old he was) standing outside another bar on another boardwalk and picking up another tourist made his stomach turn and he almost, just almost, lost his appetite.

Instead of answering, the kid looked out the window at the sea and asked his own question "what is the first thing you will do when you get on your ship?"

Scotty grinned, in spite of the circumstances. He loved talking about his girl. His favorite topics of conversation were, in this order: ships (his girl), food (sandwiches), unsolvable problems (especially involving theoretical physics), and sex. "Well, I will probably head to the engineering deck straightaway to see what those bastards have done to my ship while I have been gone for a week. Then, I think I am going to sleep for a good twelve hours after my shift." He paused for a moment. "For some reason, shore leave has tired me."

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, both content with not making this harder than it had to be. Scotty felt himself almost stand up to go a few times but failed each time. Finally, the kid stood up and threw away what was left of his sandwich. "I have to let you go." When Scotty managed to look up at him, he leaned down and kissed him hard on the lips. "Do not forget me." And with that, he walked out the door.

He sat there for a good hour, knowing that he was a fool for wishing for more, especially considering the lad's line of work. He most likely had done this before, left his customer wanting. No, it was more than that; he knew it. He also knew that he would be looking for a curly-haired man if he ever came back to Risa and would be disappointed if he could not find him.

It was time to go. He left his pint glass on the table and took his memories with him, like the old sentimental fool that he was.

So here he was, waiting on the boardwalk to be beamed aboard. He just could not succeed in reaching in his pocket for his communicator to complete the task. He really did not know what he was waiting for, but there he was, still standing there, skin growing more and more red from the afternoon sun. Waiting. Ah fuck it, time to go.

"Montgomery Scott to Enterprise. Ready to beam up one?"

"Enterprise to Mr. Scott. Welcome back! We have you locked and ready to go."

As he felt his body energize, he thought he saw a flash of movement to the corner of his eye, but he did not really pay much attention to it. He arrived back on his ship a few seconds later, whole and well and left the transporter room to check on his girl. He would not be content until he saw she was well.

_V. The Enterprise, Montgomery Scott's Quarters, 0121 hours, Monday_

He had made good on the lad's demand—he could not forget him. His shift was over, his ship was just fine after some minor programmed changes he made to his fellow engineers' work over the past week, but he just could not get to sleep for the life of him.

Sitting on his regulation bed in the darkened room, he rubbed his face and yawned. Hell, he was tired enough. His muscles ached from the strain of a week of sex with someone with much more stamina. It was just that every time he closed his eyes, he replayed the last four and half days in full color, taste, and feeling. He could see the surprising blush on the lad's face as he licked his way down his toned body, circling his bellybutton and making his way down to the good parts that needed his mouth more. He could taste the salt on his upper lip when he kissed him, bodies flush with each other, no room for spaces left between them. He could feel nails on his back, digging in, begging for more without words. Then he heard those words, moaned in that accent of his, sometimes not even understanding what he was saying, turning him on like no other.

Dropping his head into his hands, he wondered if he was ever going to sleep again or the kid was going to keep torturing him all the way from Risa. He had just picked up his decanter of Scotch whiskey to pour a glass when he heard an alert from his communicator.

"Scotty here."

"Um, Scotty you might want to come down to the transporter room. We have an…issue." He heard a murmur in the background and thought that he recognized the voice, but that was impossible. At the thought of how he ended up on this ship in the first place and that whole line of what was "impossible," he bolted out his quarters.

He arrived in the transporter room to see many things that confused the hell out of him. The first thing he saw was the kid, whose voice he had recognized earlier as it was one that was not easily forgotten or imitated. The next sight was that of that same kid in an apparently heated discussion with Lieutenant Kyle, the transporter chief, on the physics of transporter technology. The final thing that confused him was that the kid seemed to know what he was talking about.

"—you can't assume to know the first thing about my transporter! There is no way that you could beam aboard this ship piggybacked with Ensign Harris. Now, would you please tell me again before I alert the captain? How did you get aboard The Enterprise?"

"I already explained it to you." His voice was patient, even though Scott could see the tension in his shoulders as if he was squaring for a fight. "I watched Mr. Scott leave and realized exactly how he was going back to his ship, so I followed Mr. Harris. He had been bragging for hours at the bar to everyone who would listen that he had to head back to his fancy ship. I assumed it was the same ship and I was right." He grinned, pleased with himself. "Would you please tell Mr. Scott that I am here?"

His throat felt a little dry when he interrupted with "Mr. Scott knows."

Kyle looked very relieved to see him, "Thank God, Scotty. He arrived on the shirt-tails of a very drunk ensign babbling about how he knew you and needed to see you. I was hoping you could clear this up before I contacted the bridge." Kyle was a good officer and friend who just happened to sometimes get a little too free with his drinking before taking his position in the transporter room. Scott had had covered for him more than once, so was not surprised to find that Kyle was now returning the favor.

"Thanks, Kyle. I will take over from here." Scotty had no idea what he was going to do with his new acquisition. Where does one stow a teenage prostitute who follows one home from shore leave? The engineering room? And why did the lad follow him and how the hell did he know transporter technology? Not just know the technology, know enough to be coherent in an argument with one of his top people. Before interrupting the two, he could tell this kid was giving Kyle a run for his money in the theoretical physics department. With that thick accent, even Scotty was having a hard time following. His mystery kid was mystifying the shit out of him.

He sighed, overwhelmed yet a little flattered that the boy had gone to this much trouble to find him. Or was that his purpose? Was there some other motivation at work here? The questions he had about his follower's background needed to be answered before he could make a rational decision on the matter. He also knew that he needed to involve the captain before he went much further or there would be hell to pay. The captain did not like to be out of the loop; neither did his first officer, for that matter. Thinking of the way Spock was going to react to this made him feel a little sympathy for the kid. Maybe he could soften the blow before he subjected him to a Vulcan's logic. Though judging by the way he held his own with Kyle, he wasn't going to need much help.

"Before we get to the many questions I have, including how you just stumped one of my best engineers, would you just tell me one thing?" The kid nodded, so he continued. "What is your name, your real name, not one you might just make up on the spot here?" His voice was definitely showing some impatience and wear, but then he was so very tired and not about to get any sleep anytime soon.

"Chekov," the boy murmured finally. "Pavel Andreievich Chekov. It's Russian."

No shit, Scotty thought.

_VI. The Enterprise, Conference Room, 0430 hours._

A couple hours later, they were sitting in the conference room off of the bridge. Those present included the captain, his first officer, his CMO, Scotty, and the lad. His name is Chekov, he knew, but it was hard to call him that. He was wondering who was actually running the bridge as everyone was in here. He entertained a quick fantasy of Uhura sitting in the captain's chair and ordering Sulu about, but quickly squashed that to focus on matters at hand. He thought back to all that happened in the last hour and his eyes dropped to the table away from the other men's perceptive gazes.

After asking…Pavel (that was better) a few vital questions earlier, Scotty had realized that this was something he could not handle on his own, so he reluctantly used the transporter room to contact the captain.

Kirk's face appeared on the screen, a little too eagerly as it had been a slow week on the bridge. "Kirk here. Scotty, what are you doing in the transporter room? Aren't you supposed to be off shift? I think I remember ordering you to get some rest from making sure everything is running to your specifications." His voice was teasing, because he loved to poke at Scotty's love for The Enterprise, even though Scotty knew that it was a love they shared.

Scotty let out a breath that showed his exasperation. This was going to be much harder when Kirk was bored as he usually made embarrassing situations more complicated when he gave them his full attention. Usually, Scotty loved this as it really was entertaining, but not when the joke was on him. "I had someone follow me home from Risa." He took a step sideways so that the captain could see Pavel. At least the lad had changed into a more respectable jeans and a much looser T-shirt, but one could still deduce that he was far too young to be on a Federation Starship.

"I see. And just who might this someone be?" His eyes were dancing, even though Scotty could see it was a serious question. The captain liked to know exactly who was on his ship at all times; and while Pavel looked mostly harmless, there had been other so-called "harmless" things that had turned into danger and headache.

Before Scotty could tell him, Pavel stepped forward, the cheeky little bugger and said "Pavel Chekov, sir. I followed Mr. Scott to beg asylum from a dangerous situation of Risa. I wish to make it back to Earth unharmed and knew that this might be my only way." Scotty's eyes bugged out at this, especially hearing him speak in a voice choked with both emotion and that arousing Russian accent. Would he never cease to surprise him? But the lad wasn't finished speaking, "I would not stay for free, but have my own talents I can add to your ship." Forget surprise him, the rage that filled his chest at the thought of Pavel using his "talents" on the crew was so much that there had to be steam coming out his ears.

His speech was over, so Pavel stepped back just in time for the captain to see his chief engineer's red face and trembling hands. When Kirk once again murmured "I see," Scotty was afraid that he actually did.

Making up his mind in the quick and decisive way that had earned him a captain's seat at a young age, Kirk ordered "Okay, escort your…friend to sickbay and have Bones give him a physical. I will alert the CMO so that he is not too surprised. It would not do to have any new viruses spreading over the ship. Report to the bridge at, let's say, 0400 hours. Kirk out."

And that was that. The doctor had grumbled about "strange kids he was forced to examine without much warning," but only to Scotty. To the kid he was surprisingly gentle, at least from what Scotty could see. He had not been allowed to accompany Pavel to his physical, most likely so the doctor could ask him some private questions. He saw Pavel nod his head in response to one of those probing questions and Doctor McCoy's resulting frown. When he started to make an extensive entry into his PADD, Scotty decided that he needed to get out of there. Oh, and also a stiff drink, preferably whiskey.

He stepped out of sickbay after asking Nurse Chapel's permission to leave Pavel in their charge for a few minutes and walked swiftly to his quarters and his ready supply of alcohol. The glass he had filled earlier was sitting there waiting to be consumed, so he drained it and poured another. Holding his second glass, he sat down on the single chair in his cramped room, trying to make sense of the thoughts consuming his brain. While his first reaction to the lad following him had been one of flattery, he had then fantasized not telling anyone and keeping him tied up in his room for a few days, venting his frustration with his mystery on him in a very pleasurable way. He could see it so clearly.

"Follow me, will ye. If you followed me, you must want this more than anything, right lad?" He would be at this point admiring young Pavel's bite-marked and bruised chest, made so by his eager sucking and penchant for using his teeth. The kid would moan and thrash under him, pretending to be struggling but really just so ready to be taken, possessed, which Scotty would do…eventually. "If you wish to use your talents, you need only use them on me. I am the only one who gets to see that side of you. Don't forget that."

He would continue his teasing until Pavel was begging for relief and only then would he finally enter him fucking him slowly and surely until he knew that he belonged to him.

Breaking off from the dangerous thoughts, disgusted with himself and more than a little hard, Scotty realized that he needed to get back to escort his young charge to the bridge. No one person had ever affected him this way and he was irritated that he could not escape the one who finally did. He finished his second glass of the much-needed liquor and willed his erection to go down by thinking un-sexy thoughts of philosophy and ice-cold planets, anything but theoretical physics and a kid who knew way more about the subject than he should.

Composed and steadied by his consumption of whisky, he headed back to sickbay in time to see Pavel and McCoy walking out. He followed them to the bridge, avoiding the eyes of both a disapproving doctor and a questioning seventeen-year-old (he had finally asked his age when his curiosity got the better of him). Pavel's face had noticeably brightened when he had joined them, which did not go unnoticed by Bones. He "hmmphed" in response, but did not say anything else.

Now, sitting in the conference room, he was shocked once again into speechlessness by the reaction of his superiors. Kirk had been eager to discuss the particulars of their meeting as by now they all knew it had been a sexual relationship. Having disregarded Chekov as a threat, he was now treating him as a buddy-in-arms against Scotty by asking questions like "who came on to whom?" and "does Scotty treat you well?" until Bones cleared his throat meaningfully and he realized where he was.

No one but Bones knew that Chekov was a prostitute, though he was not even sure he knew as the captain had already read the doctor's report and had not mentioned it. Had Pavel lied about that part?

Commander Spock had been fascinated by his entry onto the ship, especially as it was thought impossible to do what he did, piggyback a ride on another person beaming. He kept asking specific questions of Pavel that intrigued him even more when Pavel was able to answer the questions in the correct scientific vernacular. Who was this kid?

It was decided that they would keep him, if only until they discovered his correct origins and the validity of his story. Scotty was only half-listening by now, bemused by the animated way Pavel was speaking to the half-Vulcan who often intimidated lesser men, but perked up when he heard his name.

"What was that?" he asked.

Kirk, still looking highly amused by this situation answered him. "I said, Pavel can share your quarters for the time being since he seems to be most comfortable with you. I know you have an extra bed due to that unfortunate incident with your last roommate…" He trailed off meaningfully. Scotty liked to forget about his last engineering roommate who had succumbed to what some called "space phobia" and had to be transported back to Earth so that he could recover with therapy beyond what Bones could provide.

"Jim, I am not sure that is such a good…"

"Captain, I do not see how logical it is for Mr. Scott to share…"

But Scotty could see that Kirk's sometimes illogical, often cunning mind was made up about both Pavel Chekov and Montgomery Scott. Turning his gaze away from the knowing look, he stood up and said, "C'mon lad, I will show you a place you can get some sleep." He walked out of the conference room, Pavel trailing him to the sound of the captain's laughter and Bones' voice rising with a "what the fuck, Jim!"

_VII. The Enterprise, Montgomery Scott's and Pavel Chekov's Quarters, later that day_

Scotty would have liked to say that he carried out his earlier fantasies of tying Pavel to the bed, but it would have been a lie. After sorting out shower and sleeping arrangements, but not anything involving emotions, he might have mumbled a quick g'night before collapsing on his bed. He couldn't remember. He had been awake for over 36 hours and his bed held much more allure than the admittedly intriguing thighs of a 17 year-old boy.

He awoke, disoriented and uncomfortable. His left arm was pinned down by the weight of a heavy curly-haired head and his chest and legs were wrapped up in gangly arms and legs. After assessing the situation, he realized only his arm was uncomfortable, but the weight did not bother him much once he was coherent enough for the name to pop up in his head. _Pavel_. He stroked his free hand lightly down the smooth back, all tanned and cream but for a scattering of freckles in the center that he hadn't noticed until now. The programmed light in his room was steadily growing brighter to wake him up, in an imitation of the rising sun.

Oftentimes his outlandish humor and manner hid the fact that Scotty was very much an emotional man. He often felt maudlin when he was drinking excessively or early in the morning. This was one of those times, when his brain was awake and all he could think about was how good, how right this lad felt in his arms. He watched the light catch the red strands in Pavel's curls and sighed contentedly. Though he hadn't been implicitly invited, Pavel was welcome in his arms and seemed to know it as he must have sneaked his way there sometime during the night.

He knew that eventually he would wake up and they would have to talk, but right now he was content where he was, lightly stroking the creamy skin and winding the curly hair around his fingertips. The room was completely bright now, indicating that his shift started in about twenty minutes. Well it would have started if the captain had not so generously (and with a large amount of winking and grinning) allowed him to have today off to show their newly-adopted Russian around the ship. Everyone who met Pavel seemed to love him right away. While Scotty was glad they were not throwing the kid off the ship, he was also slightly jealous of the giving way in which he interacted with his fellow crewmates.

But there was no doubt the kid was talented and not in the way Scotty wished to explore in a little while. He knew more about his ship and how it ran than his best engineer, or possibly Scotty himself. This was a little disconcerting but rather intriguing as well. If he was going to become attached to someone, he knew it would have to be someone who interested him enough to have him stray from his girl.

The first sign of an awakening Pavel was a mumble and a fluttering of eyelashes. Those oh-so intelligent eyes locked onto Scotty's and the first word out of his mouth was a whispered "hi."

"Mornin'," Scotty whispered back, his accent exceptionally pronounced. He was about to ask when he had joined him in bed but his lips were fiercely taken by the younger man's. Scotty eagerly joined in on the attack, uncaring of morning breath in favor of possessing the mouth he had been staring at for a half and hour. The each fought for possession of the kiss using teeth and tongue but it was Chekov who won, pinning Scotty to bed with one hand on the shoulder he had slept on and one hand on his bare chest.

"It is my turn," he said decisively, apparently turned-on about the prospect of turning the tables.

By this time, Scotty could care less who was on top as long as there was sex involved. His morning erection automatically thrust against Pavel as the kid began licking and biting his way down his chest, stopping to swirl his tongue around Scotty's tight nipples and bite just hard enough to make his stomach jump in a flurry of arousal. The questing mouth found its way to his boxers and slowly drew them down his legs, being sure to bite and suck any skin he uncovered while doing so.

Pavel took the tip of his cock into his mouth, holding the base, and sucked gently, cupping his balls gently in the other hand. It was amazing sight in the bright-as-sunshine room, glistening lips stretched wide around his cock, hair mussed up from bed, creamy skin starting to take on that flush that Scotty loved so much. By the time Pavel stopped, he was harder and panting more than could be healthy. He sat abruptly back on his heels and peered seriously at Scotty.

"Can I fuck you?" He said this biting his lip, showing his nerves explicitly for the first time since Scotty met him. He knew that the kid was asking for more than sex as he had never deviated from the script on Risa. He was asking for control.

"It will cost you," he was about to say, but knew how much it had taken the lad to ask it so he asked his own question. "Why did you follow me? The real reason, not some bullshit about being a refugee."

He looked surprised, but answered. "I thought you would know. It is you. I had to follow you."

"And why did ye have to, then?"

"Because you are mine."

Scotty smiled slowly, realizing that it didn't matter about the mystery when he knew who Pavel really belonged to. He crooked his hand, beckoning him closer. "Yes, you can fuck me, just go slow for God's sake."

Pavel took his orders seriously, preparing Scotty's entrance very carefully with lube, so carefully that Scotty was groaning and begging him to stop teasing him with shallow strokes from his talented fingers and just fuck him already. Pavel ignored his constant threats to tie him up and leave him naked and wanting the rest of the night and continued to thrust slowly in and out with two, then three fingers, leaning down and biting his ass between strokes just to drive him that much crazier.

An eternity later, Chekov replaced his fingers with his cock and thrust slowly, then faster, his speech growing more littered with Russian exclamations than Scotty would ever dare learn. It was so hot listening to him that it only took a few light strokes of his hand and he was coming, battered down by Chekov's constant movements inside him. The kid bit his shoulder when he came, then collapsed beside him on the narrow bed, panting uncontrollably.

"You belong to me, Pavel Andreievich Chekov," he murmured into his ear, his heartbeat slowing down gradually. "Though sometime you need to tell me how the hell you learned transwarp theory well enough to get on this ship."

Eventually, Pavel would tell him, but that was later, long after he had won the hearts of the crew and not just one chief engineer.


End file.
